Right Home To You
by BelinhaZpears
Summary: Quinn just needed a safe place to be.


**Disclaimer: **characters and places belong to Ryan Murphy and to Fox Network. If you find this fanfiction similar to another one, it's nothing more than a coincidence.

**Production: **December 2014

**Rating: **G

**Summary: **Quinn just needed a safe place to be.

**Extra: **sets in S1. The lack of Quinncedes will always hurt me...

* * *

**A/N: **English is not my first language and I don't have a beta-reader at the moment, so I'm sorry for any mistakes, no one is perfect. Hope you enjoy this fanfiction as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)

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**RIGHT HOME TO YOU**

She makes sure that everything is set for a perfect first night.

(Clean up the dust, _check_. Make up the bed, _check_. Hide the comic books, _check_. Take down those 'I'm-a-nerd-but-still-a-boy' posters from the walls, _check_.)

This place is going to be the safe haven she needs.

On her way out, Mercedes leaves a welcoming treat on the nightstand. Homemade oatmeal cookies with raisins can help mend broken hearts. Of that she's sure.

(_Check_.)

(*)

Beyoncé and Mariah, Stevie and Michael, and, of course, her favorite, Whitney. These are the voices that fill the cracks in the silence that surrounds them during their rides to McKinley High every morning.

On the fifth day, though, after buckling her seatbelt, Quinn points at the car radio and asks: "Can we listen to that _Signed, Sealed, Delivered_ song again?" They can, so Mercedes hits the 'play' button and shakes her head to the funky rhythm, while she hums the song all the way down to school, hitting the palms on her knees and staring at the window.

And with a little help from her music, their rides were never silent anymore.

(*)

It started out as a boring afternoon, but now Quinn's fingers are bright red and there's flour in Mercedes' hair. Between the milk drops and sugar grains all over the counter and the eggshells that fell on the floor, the kitchen is a mess.

But neither of the girls seems to care; they can't care when there's still batter to pour on the hot frying pan, pancakes to fold in two and fill with the mix of fresh strawberries and raspberries, finished snacks to dust with powdered sugar. All of this while dancing wildly and singing out loud with the radio that's playing over the fridge: «_Oh, I wanna dance with somebody… with somebody who loves me!_»

(*)

David Jones approaches the ice-cream truck at the Spring Fair with a smile: "It's four for me and my ladies!" The boy nods and starts filling the cones with their requests, but he's still stealthily observing the family, eyes focused on the very pale, very blonde, heavily pregnant, blaring 'I-don't-belong-here' Quinn.

The girl, who had approached him laughing at some funny remark Mercedes had just made, notices his stare and instantly the smile dies. Her guard is raised up again. Until Kat Jones pulls her close to her with one arm, brings Mercedes closer with the other, and states proudly: "My daughters are beautiful, aren't they? Identical, like two drops of water!"

The boy swallows dry and is still unsure of what to say when he receives the payment for his service. All four of them leave with their ice-creams involved in a great laugh.

(*)

Mercedes can hear her cry in her bed sometimes. At first she missed her family, later she felt like a failure. Lately it's pure fear: of the birth, of the postpartum, of the future of that child that no one ever really wanted.

Her Papa says tears can heal (and he makes sure to add an extra waffle to her plate when they have breakfast together). Her Mama says stress needs an escape (and she helps her find a comfortable position in bed and makes sure she has a cup of chamomile tea before she turns off the lights). But she doesn't like the echo of her sobs in the night.

Sometimes she goes to her room and lies down next to her. When she holds her in her arms, it's easier for Quinn to fall asleep.

(*)

The obstetrician warns it can happen anytime now, so there are times when she doesn't even sleep, afraid of waking up in pain. In those nights, they sit together at the porch and just talk.

"What's your dream for the future?"

Mercedes wants to be a star. She wants music to guide her, to take her to every beautiful place in the world. And then she wants to come home, to her parents and her brother, to her husband and her kids, to her friends. She wants to be happy.

Then she asks about _her_ dream, though she knows Quinn has always wanted to be great – to fly higher, to stand out in the crowd, to look down on those who weren't as smart and powerful as she was. But tonight she rubs her huge belly and stares at the stars in the sky above them before answering:

"I want to give a last piece of hope to someone who's lost. Someday, I want to be you."

(*)

And one day she comes home from the hospital and Judy Fabray has taken all of the clothes and other things that belonged to her. The room is empty and she suddenly understands that's how it will remain. Her nightgown, the one she borrowed on her first night, is carefully folded over the bed, obviously left behind since Quinn isn't going to need it anymore.

Mercedes picks it up as she sits at the edge of the bed. The fabric still smells like her body lotion, of coconut and vanilla, and that's what she holds on to when she lies down and holds back the tears.

She's going to miss her bad.

**the end**


End file.
